Asiaticus met Messalina’s eyes and held them for a couple of heartbeats before addressing Claudius. ‘Princeps, what would you make of a freedman casting such aspersions on the character of his patron’s wife to strangers?’
‘I-i-in-int-t-t-tolerab-b-ble.’
‘And yet here we have it: a freedman going about saying such things. Imagine, Princeps, the gods forbid, should your freedmen go making such accusations in public instead of coming to you? Would that be acceptable?’
Claudius made a sound akin to a man being slowly garrotted as he tried to form his answer and Vespasian realised that Asiaticus had hit the mark: Claudius must give some credence to certain of the rumours about his wife.
Messalina sat rigid whilst Narcissus observed Asiaticus through half-closed eyes, revolving a ruby ring on his little finger; Pallas and Callistus both looked as if they had not taken a breath for a long while. A droplet of sweat dripped down Suillius’ forehead whilst Vitellius and Crispinus both gaped at Asiaticus in unconcealed horror as he stood patiently awaiting the Emperor’s protracted efforts to give his reply.
‘No!’ Claudius finally exploded, his face puce and his chin slimed with drool. ‘No one will accuse my Messalina of such a thing in public; in public she is beyond reproach.’ He jerked his shaking head towards his freedmen and continued his tirade. ‘But if one of my freedmen thought that there was the slightest stain on her character it would be his duty to bring his proof to me, the h-h-husband, and no one else; a man’s wife’s conduct is for him alone to deal with and not for public consumption! It’s the way of the ancestors!’
There was complete silence in the room apart from Claudius’ panting and snuffling as he fought to regain his composure. Messalina’s eyes, black as beads and cold as the Styx, fixed on Asiaticus as he waited patiently, seemingly unruffled by the outburst that he had goaded his Emperor into, staring at Narcissus who gazed back with the faintest of cold smiles.
‘He’s just forced Narcissus’ hand,’ Gaius whispered to the brothers. ‘If Claudius were to get proof of Messalina’s infidelity from any source other than his freedmen he would never trust them again. Asiaticus knows Messalina will ensure that he’s found guilty today and has just guaranteed his quick vengeance.’
A loud sob broke over Claudius’ laboured breathing and Vespasian looked up to see Messalina with tears running free down her cheeks.
‘My d-dearest!’ Claudius cried. ‘I wasn’t suggesting for one moment that you are anything other than a model wife.’
‘I know, my darling,’ Messalina croaked, dabbing at her face with her palla and looking at Claudius with wet, pleading eyes. ‘But it’s the injustice of a woman’s lot in society that grieves me; aspersions are cast upon our characters by jealous people, and despite our innocence some of the slander sticks. Poor Poppaea’s reputation is being sullied by a freedman and she can’t even defend herself. Promise me, my darling, that should such lies about me ever reach your ears that you will give me the chance to put your mind at rest, and once I’ve done that you will punish the scandal-monger as you will this freedman who has behaved so dishonourably.’
‘Of course I will, sweet girl; I would never b-b-believe anything b-bad of you until I have seen your eyes.’ He leant over and kissed her cheek, adding to its moistness, before turning to Suillius. ‘I have no wish to see this freedman witness of yours, other than in the arena with N-N-Niger this afternoon. That charge is thrown out. Now, what of the next, Suillius, have you been misled on this one too?’
‘No, Princeps, on my honour; and you know the witness to be of the highest integrity having entrusted the education of your son to him. This is the most serious charge: that Asiaticus was heard boasting that he was the unidentified man who took part in Caligula’s murder.’
‘T-time is running on so b-b-bring Sosibius in.’
Pallas stood. ‘Before we hear from Sosibius, Princeps, I feel obliged to make one admission.’
‘Well?’
‘It’s just that this morning I heard my dear colleague, Callistus, saying that he thinks that he has proof as to exactly who this man was and that Narcissus and I have covered up the evidence. I thought that I’d mention it so that he could have the chance to enlighten us all and stop this charade.’
Vespasian’s heart leapt and he glanced at Sabinus; the colour had drained from his face.
Callistus swallowed and then got to his feet, casting a quick sidelong glance at Pallas that Vespasian assumed was one of hatred, despite his expressionless face. ‘Princeps, I’m afraid that Pallas is mistaken; I said no such thing.’
Pallas insisted. ‘But I heard you say, my dear Callistus, that you had evidence that Asiaticus was not the man and that we knew all along.’
‘I said nothing of the sort, I assure you, Princeps.’
Claudius twitched impatiently. ‘Well? D-d-did he or didn’t he, Pallas?’
Pallas bowed in apology. ‘I must insist that he did and I’m bringing it to your attention, in an open hearing, because I wouldn’t want him to come to you in private, should you find Asiaticus guilty, and cloud the issue and, at the same time, cause you to question Narcissus’ and my loyalty to you. I believe that it’s best to get this out into the open, Princeps, for all our sakes.’
‘Yes, yes; to whom did he say this?’
Pallas cleared his throat as Callistus wrung his hands aware of Messalina’s distrusting gaze. ‘To Titus Flavius Vespasianus.’
Vespasian swallowed a bile retch.
‘Vespasian? Is he back in Rome?’
‘He arrived yesterday and I have him here ready to confirm the conversation.’
‘Bring him in.’
Vespasian stood before the Emperor and Empress knowing that he had to answer Claudius’ question quickly and fluently. ‘Yes, Princeps; I spoke to Callistus this morning in the palace. I was on my way down from my family’s apartment. The Praetorians guarding Britannicus, who had spent the night there with Titus, will confirm that.’
‘Ahh, they are such good friends those two,’ Claudius said, his concentration shifting, ‘aren’t they, my dear? It was such a fine idea of your brother’s to move young T-T-Titus into the palace.’
‘Yes, dearest,’ Messalina replied without the same enthusiasm. ‘But we should listen to what Vespasian has to say. Please continue.’
‘I met him in one of the corridors …’
‘W-where were you going?’
Where had he been going? For an instant he felt panic well up and then came the moment of clarity in which he saw exactly what Pallas had done: he had defied Narcissus whilst at the same time compromising Callistus with both the Emperor and Empress and he, Vespasian, was expected to lie to condemn an innocent man, a man who had showed him hospitality only the evening before. ‘I was coming here, Princeps.’
‘What for?’
‘Because Narcissus asked me to be present to corroborate my brother’s evidence.’
‘What evidence?’
‘That Asiaticus had also boasted to him, whilst they had been in Britannia together, that he took part in Caligula’s assassination.’ He was acutely aware of Asiaticus’ eyes boring into his back as he blatantly bore false witness against a guiltless man, but he knew that he had been dragged in so deep and so quickly that there was no way of extracting himself without condemning his brother and putting his own life in danger. There was nothing he could do; it was just how Rome worked. ‘Sabinus told me of it later. Naturally I was shocked and told him that he should speak to Narcissus about it as soon as he got back to Rome; which he did and that’s why he’s here today to back up Sosibius’ evidence.’
‘So why did Callistus talk to you in the corridor?’
Vespasian did his best nervous glance in Callistus’ direction — although no acting was required as he felt the genuine emotion. ‘Callistus said that he had evidence that Asiaticus was innocent and he accused me of being in collusion with Narcissus and Pallas; he said that they knew that Asiaticus was being framed and that the culprit was actually my brother and he was testifying against Asiaticus to keep himself in the clear. It’s nonsense of course because everybody knows that at the time of the assassination Sabinus was a thousand miles away serving as legate of the Ninth Hispana; it’s a matter of record.’